Suf. No, no: There be moe Waspes that buz about his Nose, Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinall Campeius, Is stolne away to Rome, hath 'tane no leaue, Ha's left the cause o'th' King vnhandled, and Is posted as the Agent of our Cardinall, To second all his plot. I do assure you, The King cry'de Ha, at this

Cham. Now God incense him, And let him cry Ha, lowder

Norf. But my Lord When returnes Cranmer? Suf. He is return'd in his Opinions, which Haue satisfied the King for his Diuorce, Together with all famous Colledges Almost in Christendome: shortly (I beleeue) His second Marriage shall be publishd, and Her Coronation. Katherine no more Shall be call'd Queene, but Princesse Dowager, And Widdow to Prince Arthur

Nor. This same Cranmer's A worthy Fellow, and hath tane much paine In the Kings businesse

Suff. He ha's, and we shall see him For it, an Arch-byshop

Nor. So I heare

Suf. 'Tis so. Enter Wolsey and Cromwell.

The Cardinall

Nor. Obserue, obserue, hee's moody

Car. The Packet Cromwell, Gau't you the King? Crom. To his owne hand, in's Bed-chamber

Card. Look'd he o'th' inside of the Paper? Crom. Presently He did vnseale them, and the first he view'd, He did it with a Serious minde: a heede Was in his countenance. You he bad Attend him heere this Morning

Card. Is he ready to come abroad? Crom. I thinke by this he is

Card. Leaue me a while.

Exit Cromwell.

It shall be to the Dutches of Alanson, The French Kings Sister; He shall marry her. Anne Bullen? No: Ile no Anne Bullens for him, There's more in't then faire Visage. Bullen? No, wee'l no Bullens: Speedily I wish To heare from Rome. The Marchionesse of Penbroke? Nor. He's discontented

Suf. Maybe he heares the King Does whet his Anger to him

Sur. Sharpe enough, Lord for thy Iustice

Car. The late Queenes Gentlewoman? A Knights Daughter To be her Mistris Mistris? The Queenes, Queene? This Candle burnes not cleere, 'tis I must snuffe it, Then out it goes. What though I know her vertuous And well deseruing? yet I know her for A spleeny Lutheran, and not wholsome to Our cause, that she should lye i'th' bosome of Our hard rul'd King. Againe, there is sprung vp An Heretique, an Arch-one; Cranmer, one Hath crawl'd into the fauour of the King, And is his Oracle

Nor. He is vex'd at something. Enter King, reading of a Scedule.

Sur. I would 'twer somthing y would fret the string, The Master-cord on's heart

Suf. The King, the King

King. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated To his owne portion? And what expence by'th' houre Seemes to flow from him? How, i'th' name of Thrift Does he rake this together? Now my Lords, Saw you the Cardinall? Nor. My Lord, we haue Stood heere obseruing him. Some strange Commotion Is in his braine: He bites his lip, and starts, Stops on a sodaine, lookes vpon the ground, Then layes his finger on his Temple: straight Springs out into fast gate, then stops againe, Strikes his brest hard, and anon, he casts His eye against the Moone: in most strange Postures We haue seene him set himselfe

King. It may well be, There is a mutiny in's minde. This morning, Papers of State he sent me, to peruse As I requir'd: and wot you what I found There (on my Conscience put vnwittingly) Forsooth an Inuentory, thus importing The seuerall parcels of his Plate, his Treasure, Rich Stuffes and Ornaments of Houshold, which I finde at such proud Rate, that it out-speakes Possession of a Subiect